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I don't care
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2024-11-30 12:36:45In the time of the early morning when Sherryl Rain had woken up from her restless sleep, she felt something wet on her feet. The sensation came again, tickling her skin, and just as she was about to dismiss it as part of a dream, the cool breeze from the cracked window grazed her bare legs, making her shiver. Half-asleep, she frowned, wondering if Dallion was up to one of his strange games again. Slowly, her groggy eyes fluttered open to find him still lying next to her, his breathing steady, and his eyes closed.
A sharp lick on her foot jolted her fully awake. She yanked her leg back instinctively, pulling herself closer to the headboard. Her heart raced, and her sleepy mind struggled to make sense of it. Stretching her neck cautiously to see what was causing the strange sensation, her gaze landed on a large shadowy form at the foot of the bed. Her instincts screamed danger as she scrambled back, inadvertently yanking the blanket off DallioRelated chapters
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. much to discuss
Sherryl walked to the edge of the leather couch, sitting down as the weight of her foster uncle and aunt's betrayal bore down on her. The thought that no one she had trusted as her family could be trusted left her feeling adrift. Her father had disappeared, her mother was gone, and now the only relatives she had left had sold her out. Across the room, Dallion leaned against the marble-topped bar, his piercing gaze fixed on her. His expression, unreadable yet intense, studied her carefully. “Are you alright?” Dallion asked, swirling a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Though his voice was calm, there was an underlying sharpness, as if he already knew her answer. “I’ll be okay,” Sherryl replied, drawing in a deep, shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "People like them aren’t worth a second thought,” Dallion said, setting the glass down wi
Last Updated : 2024-12-13The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. perfect timing
Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his expression almost mocking. “A fair question, little mouse. Life would be dreadfully boring if I skipped the theatrics every time. There are moments when it’s necessary to walk among the shadows, to breathe in the grit of this city. Skipping steps makes you lose touch. Besides…” He paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. “I enjoy the convoy rides. It’s the perfect time to plan moves, strategize... or just reflect.” “But there are limits,” he added, his tone dropping, the shift in his demeanor palpable. “Limits?” Dallion nodded, his expression growing serious. “The Time required to satisfy my need in settling accounts is immense. Blood is the fuel for such a gift. And let’s just say…” He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming as his voice dropped to a whisper, “…finding the right accounts I need from my debtors isn’
Last Updated : 2024-12-14The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. it hurts
Sherry Rain’s uncle, who had only just stepped inside, froze mid-step, his mouth opening but failing to form words. His expression mirrored the one her aunt, May, had worn upon seeing Sherry appear at their door, an uneasy combination of shock and guilt. They hadn’t expected her, and it was clear they had sold her. Sherry clenched her fists, questioning why she had agreed to come here, even with the gut feeling she’d had about what transpired the day she was sent to the Cross empire’s underground auction. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about, mister," her uncle, Larry, stammered, his voice faltering as Dallion shifted his cold, predatory gaze to him. Larry's throat bobbed as he gulped nervously but continued his charade. “Where have you been all this time? When we came back, you weren’t there… we assumed you ran off.” The man’s obliviousness to the barely veiled threat Dallion had issued to May earlier made his
Last Updated : 2024-12-15The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. You're late.
Bone lake Coastal City....Year 2014, Midnight The relentless downpour drenched the dimly lit streets of Bone lake, a coastal city where the sea roared under the storm's fury. The streetlights flickered, barely illuminating the narrow alleyways. Deep puddles formed, reflecting the towering shadows of forgotten buildings in this forsaken part of town. Beneath a broken street lamp, a young woman named Sherry Rain stood, clinging to her black umbrella, the rain slapping down like a symphony of whispers and screams. Her jade green eyes darted nervously across the empty street as her aunt and uncle huddled under another umbrella a few feet away. The city's underworld had kept them on edge for weeks. Every delivery felt like walking through a minefield. Tonight was no different. "Aunt May, do you think Mr Jason will show up?" Sherry asked, her voice barely rising above the sound of the rain. "The storm’s getting worse, I don't think the rain is going to stop any time soon." "He will c
Last Updated : 2024-09-28The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I don't belong here
Sherry was woken up by the deafening rumble of thunder, the sound blending with the heavy patter of rain against what felt like cold stone. Her eyes, still heavy with exhaustion, struggled to focus on the dim shadows that surrounded her. She lay on a wet floor, the slickness of the ground confirming that water had seeped through the narrow window above her. Disoriented, Sherry blinked once, twice, pushing herself up, her palms slick against the moisture-coated ground. Her breath hitched as she glanced around. The room, devoid of light except for a faint glow spilling in from a hallway beyond, felt small and suffocating. A sense of danger slithered around her, the stone walls holding more than just coldness; they held secrets. The air reeked of damp stone and rusted metal. Sherry's mind raced as she pushed herself up on shaky legs, her fingers brushing against the cold iron bars that separated her from freedom. Bars. This wasn't a room. This was a cage. She peered through the dar
Last Updated : 2024-09-28The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Strip. Now!
The early hours of the morning were typically silent, but today, a soft drizzle accompanied the heavy clouds that still blanketed the sky. The mansion that stood at the heart of the sprawling estate was a fortress, with guards stationed at every entrance, their cold gazes alert for any disturbance. Inside the vast underground levels, the clinking of metal against the concrete floor echoed. Sherry's eyes fluttered open as the noise roused her. She sat up slowly, her body aching from the night spent on a hard, cold cot. She rubbed her eyes and took in her surroundings—the dim, damp room that had been her prison for what felt like weeks. The steel door of her cell clanked open with a low groan, and Sherry felt a small surge of relief. The prospect of stepping outside, of breathing air that wasn’t stifled by the smell of fear and sweat, was a small consolation in her otherwise grim situation. As she rose to her feet, she saw other pr
Last Updated : 2024-09-28The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. This is the mafia. Girl!
A knock on the steel door interrupted the guard before he could press the knife any deeper into Sherry's skin. His blade had already grazed her cheek, a shallow line of blood trailing down her face. "What?" he growled, his voice a guttural snarl as another knock echoed through the cold, dimly lit room. As strong as she tried to be, Sherry was terrified. She knew her position here—bound by ropes in the mafia's underground trafficking ring, a pawn in a vicious game of power. Viktor had been sent to "discipline" her, to remind her that rebellion came with consequences. He tugged on the back of her hair, yanking her head up so that her tear-filled eyes met his. "I haven't even started with you, girl," he sneered, breath hot on her skin. Sherry had hoped her desperate attempts to escape—punching, kicking, screaming—would have bought her some time. But all she got in return was a twisted grin and
Last Updated : 2024-09-28The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Break her down.
The narrow corridor felt like a tomb, the pale lights overhead flickering intermittently, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Sherry's footsteps echoed down the cold concrete floor as she passed the holding cells, each lined with steel bars and flickering red lights. The captives inside sat motionless, their faces a mixture of despair and defiance. Some leaned against the wall, others curled into themselves, trying to shield their broken spirits. It had been five days since Sherry was dragged into The Basement, the infamous underground lair of The Bone lake Syndicate, a sprawling mafia organization that traded in secrets, power—and human lives. She'd spent two of those days in an isolation room, a punishment she was told would ‘teach her to behave.’ But she knew the real reason—they were trying to break her down before branding her, marking her like they did every other captive in this place. It was the same warning she’d heard from Raphael, her cellmate. The branding was a sign of o
Last Updated : 2024-09-28
Latest chapter
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. it hurts
Sherry Rain’s uncle, who had only just stepped inside, froze mid-step, his mouth opening but failing to form words. His expression mirrored the one her aunt, May, had worn upon seeing Sherry appear at their door, an uneasy combination of shock and guilt. They hadn’t expected her, and it was clear they had sold her. Sherry clenched her fists, questioning why she had agreed to come here, even with the gut feeling she’d had about what transpired the day she was sent to the Cross empire’s underground auction. "I don’t understand what you’re talking about, mister," her uncle, Larry, stammered, his voice faltering as Dallion shifted his cold, predatory gaze to him. Larry's throat bobbed as he gulped nervously but continued his charade. “Where have you been all this time? When we came back, you weren’t there… we assumed you ran off.” The man’s obliviousness to the barely veiled threat Dallion had issued to May earlier made his
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. perfect timing
Dallion’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his expression almost mocking. “A fair question, little mouse. Life would be dreadfully boring if I skipped the theatrics every time. There are moments when it’s necessary to walk among the shadows, to breathe in the grit of this city. Skipping steps makes you lose touch. Besides…” He paused, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. “I enjoy the convoy rides. It’s the perfect time to plan moves, strategize... or just reflect.” “But there are limits,” he added, his tone dropping, the shift in his demeanor palpable. “Limits?” Dallion nodded, his expression growing serious. “The Time required to satisfy my need in settling accounts is immense. Blood is the fuel for such a gift. And let’s just say…” He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming as his voice dropped to a whisper, “…finding the right accounts I need from my debtors isn’
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. much to discuss
Sherryl walked to the edge of the leather couch, sitting down as the weight of her foster uncle and aunt's betrayal bore down on her. The thought that no one she had trusted as her family could be trusted left her feeling adrift. Her father had disappeared, her mother was gone, and now the only relatives she had left had sold her out. Across the room, Dallion leaned against the marble-topped bar, his piercing gaze fixed on her. His expression, unreadable yet intense, studied her carefully. “Are you alright?” Dallion asked, swirling a glass of amber liquor in his hand. Though his voice was calm, there was an underlying sharpness, as if he already knew her answer. “I’ll be okay,” Sherryl replied, drawing in a deep, shaky breath before releasing it slowly. "People like them aren’t worth a second thought,” Dallion said, setting the glass down wi
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. I don't care
In the time of the early morning when Sherryl Rain had woken up from her restless sleep, she felt something wet on her feet. The sensation came again, tickling her skin, and just as she was about to dismiss it as part of a dream, the cool breeze from the cracked window grazed her bare legs, making her shiver. Half-asleep, she frowned, wondering if Dallion was up to one of his strange games again. Slowly, her groggy eyes fluttered open to find him still lying next to her, his breathing steady, and his eyes closed. A sharp lick on her foot jolted her fully awake. She yanked her leg back instinctively, pulling herself closer to the headboard. Her heart raced, and her sleepy mind struggled to make sense of it. Stretching her neck cautiously to see what was causing the strange sensation, her gaze landed on a large shadowy form at the foot of the bed. Her instincts screamed danger as she scrambled back, inadvertently yanking the blanket off Dallio
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Her lips taste's sweeter.
When they finally returned to the Cross Empire estate, the line of luxury cars that had been parked earlier because of the party had already cleared out. It had been hours since they left, and Sherryl felt drained. True to his word, Dallion had her seated in front of a polished chessboard, its black and white pieces gleaming under the warm light of the room. He patiently explained the game to her, taking his time to go through the basics. Despite his reputation for being short-tempered, he surprised her with how thoroughly he taught her, making sure she understood the moves. He left the room briefly, and by the time he returned, Sherryl was slumped over the edge of the board, her arm stretched out and her breathing steady. Her body remained stiff, as if ready to spring awake at the slightest noise. Closing the door quietly, Dallion approached the board and began putting th
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. charmed you
Her heart raced at the subtle challenge in his voice. Swallowing hard, she tried to move to the far edge of the car. Dallion followed, shutting the space between them with a decisive smile. The small space felt suffocating as he pulled the window curtains closed, sealing them in. Sherryl stiffened when he reached for her face, his grip firm yet deliberate. “What are you—” Her words turned into a gasp as his lips brushed her lips. Before she could react, his teeth sank into her tongue.Sherryl’s gasp turned into a muffled whimper as Dallion’s teeth grazed her tongue with a deliberate sharpness, a mixture of pleasure and pain igniting her senses. She tried to pull back instinctively, but his firm grip on her face left no room for escape. His dark eyes bore into hers, daring her to resist, daring her to push him away, but her body betrayed her.The sensation of his lips moving against hers was magnetic, each kiss deepenin
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. Tasted this lips
Was she supposed to nod and smile, pretending to share his twisted sense of humor? Or should she keep quiet, blending into the car seat as if she were part of its upholstery? "Women who’ve tasted these lips don’t let go that easily," Dallion mused suddenly, his voice shifting to something almost playful. "They keep coming back. Even if I insult them, they can't resist. Masochists, wouldn’t you agree?" Sherry blinked, her mind scrambling for an answer. How was she supposed to comment on his past entanglements? But she could understand why women, even those with a semblance of self-respect, might flock to him. It wasn’t just his sharp jawline or commanding presence—it was the arrogance he wore like armor, daring anyone to challenge him. "Tell me, Sherry," Dallion’s tone turned curious, almost teasing. "What do you think people say about me? Through your eyes." He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs casually, though his gaze pinned her like a hawk sizing up its prey. "It do
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. somewhere else
Sherryl stilled her heart, trying to push down the swell of emotions that threatened to rise. She didn’t want to show him how much his actions perplexed her. The seconds stretched endlessly, and her thoughts tangled, trying to make sense of why Dallion had just gifted her something as significant as a family heirloom—a pendant that once belonged to his mother. Yet here he was, standing right in front of her, his expression as unreadable as ever, his sharp crimson gaze boring into her soul. It wasn’t fear anymore. Or at least, that’s what Sherryl told herself. Maybe at first, she had been terrified of this mafia lord, after all, he had stabbed the auctioneer who sold her in the black market with the precision and grace of someone unbothered by consequence. The sheer memory sent a shiver down her spine. Yet tonight, in this secluded attic, he had her thinking, questioning his motives. Why her? Why this? Sherryl recalled the
The Devil's Claim... His little mouse. doesn't change much
Sheryl had thought the mark Dallion was talking about was either a tattoo with the Cross empire's emblem but she was wrong, after giving the locket to her, she was about to ask him another question when she felt a sudden pain in her arm.Sherryl flinched at the sudden pain of the cold metal brushing her skin, a sharp blade grazing against her hand as if it were testing her limits. The nick wasn’t deep but just enough to sting, drawing a thin line of crimson that dripped slowly. Dallion released her hand, his dark, brooding eyes watching her reaction with the intensity of a predator. She yanked her hand away, clutching it against her chest, but her gaze dropped instinctively to the shallow cut he had made. "Why did you do that?" she asked breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper, her shock painted vividly on her face. Was he so cold-blooded that he decided to use her as his personal toy to torment, a pawn in his twisted game?
